Alec's Mishap
by Ghostem
Summary: Alec's life spirals out of control as his relationship with Magnus slowly begins to crumble.
1. One

_Alec's Mishap_ was originally uploaded around two? three? years ago. I removed it from the site for a few reasons. I rediscovered it recently in a dusty corner of my laptop. I'm editing it, switching things around a little, adding a couple of new ideas and re-uploading one chapter at a time. I really appreciated all the love that _Alec's Mishap_ received on our first outing and I really hope that y'all will enjoy it again now following its little spit polish. Any questions/comments/mysterious quests to be solved, just let me know. Peace.

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The apartment was beautiful. Dark stained hardwood floors. Tall windows that leaked the soft New York City sunlight onto the hand painted de Gournay wallpaper in creamy strips. A kitchen pulled from the pages of a glossy magazine, all granite countertops and polished steel. A bed that spread out like an ocean, cushiony waves of white Egyptian cotton rolling up to meet buoyant duck down pillows. A bathroom to get lost in, with a claw foot tub that could launch a ship.

Living here, in Magnus' apartment, made Alec feel special. _Magnus_ made Alec feel special. As Alec wandered the quiet living room, running a finger absentmindedly over the picture frames displaying his and Magnus' smiling faces in Rome, Milan, Zagreb, he smiled too.

The front door snapped open, then shut. Alec heard Magnus' footsteps in the hall, the thump of his bag tossed onto the kitchen table, the click of the coffee machine. Same as always.

And then Magnus was in the doorway, his grey eyes dewy, his impeccably cut suit shearing angles that Alec knew he would never tire of. He was smiling, drawing his cigarette case from an inside pocket of his suit jacket. The case flashed in the afternoon sunlight as he flicked it open, withdrew a menthol and placed it between his lips in a way that fondled Alec's attention like it was a physical thing, filling his chest and squeezing his heart. The clipper sparked and smoke peppered the air, slightly sweet and vaguely choking. Magnus inhaled, exhaled, and the smoke funnelled from his mouth like a gauzy curtain.

Alec stepped towards him, his bare feet fleeting on the hardwood. "I missed you," he said softly.

Magnus laughed. "I was only gone a few hours." He was watching Alec like a predator might, unnerving, charged. He was a magnet, Magnus his opposite pole. For where Magnus was endlessly graceful, alluring, and sharply witty, Alec felt the constant press of anxiety and self doubt. Alec needed Magnus. Without him he was simply ordinary. With him, Alec felt invincible.

Magnus's smile grew wider. He took a step forward, a cloud of smoke binding him like a shroud, and planted a gentle kiss on Alec's lips.

"I love you," he said, the words final, absolute.

Slowly, Alec pulled away from Magnus, a coy smile now playing at the corners of his mouth. He stepped lightly across the living room to retrieve a bottle of vermouth from the sideboard. He poured a glass for each of them, and offered one to Magnus, his brows quirked.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Magnus's face fell as he bent to stub out his cigarette on the marble coffee table.

"Maybe." Alec gulped his drink in a single mouthful, the alcohol burning his throat. He turned back towards Magnus, poised to speak, but Magnus had already loosed his own glass, whipping it at Alec's head with a force that cut the smoke filled air.

It flew across the room, missing Alec by a hair before shattering against the wall. A spray of shards flared, and droplets of acrid alcohol wet the wall like tears. One shard ricocheted off the coffee table and slashed Alec's cheek directly below his eye.

Alec screamed. "My eye!"

Magnus tore his keys from his suit pocket and sliced the closest panel of wallpaper, as blood seeped through the fingers Alec held clamped to his injured face. "Fuck this fucking de Gournay."

"My eye," whimpered Alec. Pain buzzed angrily across his face, fast and sharp.

Magnus stalked toward Alec, blocking his view of the room. "You can't trick me."

"I wasn't try—"

"You can't _trick me_ ," Magnus spat. "I know you. I know what you're doing. Don't think I'm blind."

"But I—"

"I see you." Magnus turned on his heel and strode towards the bedroom. "Don't follow me. You hear me?"

Alec gaped, his heart plugging his throat. What did—

"You hear me?" Magnus barked, and Alec squeaked back, "Yes. Yes. I do. Okay."

The bedroom door slammed, so hard the art on the walls jumped. Blood dripped from between Alec's trembling fingers, splattering softly against the floor. Shock pinned him down, a butterfly on a cork board, as through glazed eyes he watched the blood fall and spread across the dark wood, gleaming blackly in the glow of the late afternoon sun.

Alec flitted back and forth, darting into the gaps of the remembered conversation. What— What just happened? He'd been good. He'd been what Magnus wanted. But he'd gotten so angry. And what now? He stirred into action, groping around for his phone. He dialled hastily and the line rang twice before Jace picked up.

"What, man?" Jace asked irritably. "I'm with Clary."

"Somethi—My eye! I can't, I nee—Help," whimpered Alec. "Please."

There was a pause, and then Jace sighed. "What's wrong with your eye?"

"Glass. It was earlier and I—fell. And—" Alec felt faint as blood continued to dribble between his fingers.

"Okay. You didn't fall." Jace cut him off. There was a long silence, which Alec's heart filled with its audible thumping. "Fine. I'll come by and pick you up."

The line died.

Alec snatched his keys and his wallet before stumbling from the apartment and out into the frigid late afternoon. Summer's edges were frosting as fall crept in to take her place. The wind was biting, and Alec pulled his sweatshirt tight around his thin frame as he sank down onto the front steps, quaking uncontrollably. He waited for three bitter hours before Jace finally rolled up in his dented Peugeot. The constant throb in Alec's cheek made his head swim as the small car screeched to a halt at the kerb.

"Where have you been?" cried Alec, yanking the passenger side door open and throwing himself into the car, a pale and shivering husk.

"I told you," Jace replied, "I was with Clary. You're lucky I'm here at all."

He threw the car into drive and pulled away from the sidewalk with a squeal of tires, the stench of burning rubber clouding the air.

Anger simmered inside Alec, but he swallowed it down. Weren't they supposed to be friends? "Can you drive me to the emergency room?"

Jace sighed heavily, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Alec… You really need to sort this shit out, man. It's toxic. You know how we all feel about Magnus. I almost didn't—"

Jace cut himself off, loosing another long sigh.

Alec kept silent as the car sped on, the long evening shadows sketching ribbons across his fragmented face.

 _Toxic_.

He didn't want it to be true. The lush apartment played across Alec's mind, the world he had been given the key to. The events, the suits, the wealth. And _Magnus_. Alluring, disorienting Magnus. Because every time he hurt Alec, every black eye, every cigarette burn, every knife to the thigh was delivered so coldly, so callously. But afterwards? Afterwards they had whispered their love for one another. Magnus's gentle touches still echoed across Alec's skin, fingertips spelling out a caressed apology. Memories of his voice, his smile, still brought a skip to Alec's heart. And maybe, sometimes love had to hurt.

They arrived at the hospital, where Jace pulled into an ambulance bay and leaned across Alec. He fumbled with the catch on the passenger side door. "Get out. Don't call me."

When the door sprung open, Jace unclipped Alec's seatbelt and bodily shoved him from the car. He stomped on the gas pedal and screeched out of the hospital parking lot with the passenger door still flapping free in the wind like some great metallic wing.

Alec lay on his back, soaking up the chill of the asphalt. He squinted through the incoming sunset, watercolour smears of effervescent orange bleeding into a band of violent pink. Alec wished that someone would pull the plug on New York City and that the night sky, unencumbered, would blaze with stars. He had always considered the stars a reminder—a reminder that he was nothing more, really, than a single fleck of ash on the wind when compared to the vastness and mystery of the universe, this cosmic curtain that draped above them all.

Some people are frightened when confronted with their relative triviality: to be naught but a single dust mote is disquieting. But for Alec, this was a comforting notion: that there was endlessly more to the universe than the abandonment, hurt, and confusion that loomed over him, blotting out the starlight and blinding him to the path ahead.

To the whine of the automatic ER door sliding open and shut, he breathed, "Fuck."

Finally, he heaved himself upright and stumbled inside.


	2. Two

Hours later, Alec emerged into the harsh morning light, squinting at the cars that flashed past as if this were an ordinary day. But this day couldn't be ordinary; he felt as though he were airing some murky secret, his cheek bulky with two stitches, a cotton dressing taped in place. He dragged himself across the parking lot to the bus stop, misery weighing heavy on his narrow shoulders.

As the bus groaned and lurched across the city, Alec curled up in his sour-smelling seat, his forehead pressed against the glass, staring vacantly as the city rumbled by outside, dirty and crowded but home. The thought of returning to Magnus twisted Alec's stomach. This was nothing new; walking back into that apartment with a stitched, taped, medicated wound was routine. But still, each time it was as bitter as a dry swallowed pill. How to act, where to put his hands, to catch an eye or not. To talk, or to stay silent and accepting. Alec sighed, the glass fogging beneath his lips, obscuring his view, painting the scene outside a muted grey to mirror his mood.

As the bus ground to a halt at the stop outside Magnus's apartment block, Alec steeled himself for the awkward reunion ahead. He stepped off onto the kerb and peered up towards the third floor. He could see a figure standing at the rail of Magnus' balcony. His heart threw itself against the bars of its cage as he recognised that figure even from this distance. There was something about the set of Magnus' shoulders, his rod-straight back, the tension radiating from him in tangible waves, that told Alec he wasn't pleased.

Magnus buzzed him up immediately.

"What are you doing here?" Magnus slouched against his open doorway, arms folded, watching as Alec heaved himself up the last few steps to the front door. His brows were knitted as he took in Alec's exhaustion, his crumpled clothes, his injured face.

"I…" Alec could find no words to unknot the chaotic web of contradictions he felt for Magnus. In truth, he didn't know why he had come back. He loved Magnus. He knew that in his heart, but his cheek burned angrily and his head felt heavy and lolling. Why did he keep coming back? As he turned over the stones in his mind, he discovered that the gaps beneath them were hollow. Reason, beyond the love he clutched tight, escaped him. Returning to Magnus had simply become a reflex, as natural and immediate as yanking a hand from a hot stove.

Alec knew then that he had nowhere else to go. Wrapping himself up in Magnus had pushed everyone else away. Their love was a shield against the world, but it had grown heavy. While Alec had been nurturing their complex relationship, he had allowed all others to die on the vine.

"I wanted to see you," whispered Alec, after the long silence.

Magnus grunted, noncommittal, retreating back into his apartment, leaving the door wide for Alec to follow. Alec entered the hallway, clicking the door closed behind him. He dragged his exhausted frame into the living room where he collapsed on the leather couch, every muscle in his body aching.

"Do you want a drink?" Magnus called through from the kitchen.

"It's nine o'clock in the morning," replied Alec, carefully controlling his words.

Magnus appeared in the living room doorway and eyed Alec suspiciously. "That's never stopped you before."

Alec shifted slightly, and said, half a whisper, "I don't want a drink."

"Then what do you want?"

"Nothing. I don't—" Alec shrugged. "I don't know."

"Whatever." Magnus retreated back into the kitchen, and Alec sighed, rolling over on the couch, his cheek throbbing angrily.

Did Alec want a drink? Perhaps that was the problem. He didn't know what he wanted at all.

Alec sighed, draping an arm over his injured face like a child. The room spun slightly around him. He lay at the centre of an unnervingly shifting universe and he didn't know how to stop it, how to get off. All he knew in that moment was that he needed to sleep.

The next thing Alec knew he was being shaken roughly awake, hands grasping his narrow shoulders. "Alec!" hissed Magnus, "Get up!" Alec cracked opened his gummy eyes. Magnus loomed over him, eclipsing the room beyond, his eyes piercing Alec as if he could peer into his fraught and splintered soul. Magnus was made up as if he were hosting a party. It must be something fancy as he had coloured his hair a bright, vivid blue woven through with what looked like diamonds.

"Get up, Alec!" insisted Magnus, shaking Alec again more insistently. "You can't be here! People are coming over!"

Before Alec could protest, Magnus had bodily lifted him from the couch and was half dragging, half carrying him towards the front door of the apartment. Faint but growing louder by the second, Alec could hear voices in the hallway, laughing and yelling, buzzing in animated layers; voices that sounded hazy with alcohol.

Magnus wrenched open the door and shoved Alec out, slamming it behind him. As Alec stood there, groggy and hurt, a group of lavishly dressed young men appeared at the top of the steps, jostling playfully and giggling noisily. Their laughter abruptly cut off when they spotted Alec standing there, his bandaged cheek stark as a brand, dark hair rumpled. They stared at him for a moment and then burst into a fresh wave of raucous laughter before knocking hard on Magnus' door, behind which the sound of booming music could now be heard, the whole apartment vibrating with the leaden notes of a heavy bass.

Alec turned and started his slow descent down the stairwell. This had not been a good day.


End file.
